


Wincest Kink Exploration

by MsImpala67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Play, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Hand Jobs, M/M, Painplay, Panty Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sam In Panties, Semi-Public Sex, Somnophilia, Whipping, Wincest - Freeform, belly bulge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2018-11-23 13:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11403273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsImpala67/pseuds/MsImpala67
Summary: This is a collection of separate drabbles, all of which explore kinks I've been dying to write. Hope you enjoy!





	1. Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: somnophilia, dry humping

Dean wakes up hard almost every time he wakes up. 

Once upon a time, it happened because he was young, because that’s what the waking rush of blood did to him. 

Now, he wakes up hard because Sam’s touching him. 

It’s the middle of the night. He’s got hours left to sleep. But he’s lying here awake instead, aching and throbbing because Sam has rolled over, thrown a leg over him, nuzzled that floppy hair right beneath Dean’s chin. He can smell his shampoo, can smell the scent of his skin, so familiar that Dean wonders sometimes if they share the same scent. 

With a sweet little sigh, Sam’s fingers twitch just a little, like a dreaming cat. And then his hips move, just a little, just enough for his thigh to graze across Dean’s cock.

“Fuck,” Dean hisses almost silently. This is what he gets for always letting them both fall asleep naked. Sam’s hot skin pressed against his dick. 

Dean closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, sliding his hips just a little, until his cock finds the silky crease of Sam’s thigh. It’s slick with sleep-sweat, soft and burning hot and exactly what Dean needs. 

Slowly, with the same rhythm as Sam’s breaths, Dean fucks his baby brother’s thigh, thrusts lazy and gentle while Sam dreams, letting his cock swell even harder. He opens his mouth and lets the breaths out as silently as possible, holding back the sounds he really wants to make. 

Eventually, he feels the head of his cock brushing Sam’s limp one, and that sends him over the edge, makes him grab the sheets and curl his toes as he moves faster, a tight, broken sound escaping his lips. 

He comes hot and sticky all over both of them, muscles tense underneath Sam until they aren’t, until he’s finally found his relief and can sink back down into the bed. 

Sam lets out a small noise and moves again, snuggles just a little closer, leg smearing Dean’s come even more. 

Dean drifts back to sleep, knowing that he’ll be hard all over again when he wakes up, just from still being covered in the mess he’s made.


	2. In the Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam needs to drink blood. Dean helps him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: blood play, blow jobs, dark ficlet

Sam comes in the hotel room angry, a predator with no prey, snorting his breaths through his nose. He doesn’t say anything to Dean, of course, just takes a few gulps of whiskey and tries to hide his shaky hands. 

Dean lets him simmer for a few minutes, watches as Sam’s knuckles turn white on the arm of his chair. He tries to tell himself that Sam will be fine, that he just needs to drink whiskey until he sleeps, and then tomorrow morning they can both pretend this mood of his never happened. 

But as soon as Dean has the thought, he knows that will never happen. He can’t let it. 

He gets up off the bed and walks over to Sam, stands so close his legs are almost touching Sam’s knees. 

“Sam?”

When Sam looks up at him, he’s burning, flames in his eyes and desperation in the clench of his jaw.  

That’s all it takes for Dean to drop to his knees between Sam’s legs, yank his shirt off and toss it to the floor. Sam watches with a pained look, like he knows they shouldn’t do this, like he hates himself for it, but like he couldn’t stop if he tried. When Dean reaches out for him, he leans forward, lets Dean stroke his hair before pulling him close. 

Dean moans at the first scrape of Sam’s teeth on his neck, gets rock-hard when Sam pulls his knife and slides the cool metal down Dean’s bare chest. 

This is it, the thing Sam needs, the only way he can be okay tonight. And that means it’s the only way Dean can be okay tonight, too. 

Sam makes a shallow cut just above the tattoo on Dean’s chest. The sting of it makes Dean want to come, makes him want to jerk Sam off hard and fast. His hands are already reaching for Sam’s jeans, but Sam knocks them away, leans down to attack the blood welling up from Dean’s wound.

He goes for it tongue first, roughly licking the ruby drop from Dean’s skin before sealing his lips around the cut and sucking. Dean cries out, but it isn’t from pain. Sam moans too, muffled by Dean’s body, hands bruising Dean’s waist as he holds him still, literally drinks the very life of him. 

It isn’t demon blood. Sam doesn’t get the same high, doesn’t get the power and strength from Dean’s blood that he did from Ruby’s. 

But it’s enough. It’s Dean’s blood, and that has its own power for Sam. 

Sam drinks until Dean’s dizzy with it. He drinks until his own pupils are blown and he’s a growling, snarling mess that’s falling in the floor, working his way down Dean’s body, tearing Dean’s jeans down to his thighs. Dean watches as Sam sucks his cock the same way he sucked his blood, like he needs all of Dean inside him right fucking now if he wants to survive. 

Dean shouldn’t want this. They’ll wake up tomorrow a tangled mess, Dean’s blood smeared all over both of them, sheets sticky with their come and sweat. And that shouldn’t make things better.

But it does.  


	3. Skinny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean discover how good it feels to see Dean inside of Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Belly bulge, top!Dean, bottom!Sam

Sam has lost weight. It happens every now and then, when they have a particularly stressful or active few months and Sam can’t devote hours to lifting weights and bulking up. His natural frame is lanky and thin, more slender than Dean, sleek muscles that mislead people into thinking Sam’s not nearly as lethal as he is.  


Dean fucking loves it.   


He loves when Sam’s big, too, don’t get him wrong. He loves the power of it, the feeling of being swallowed up by his little brother.   


But this...this is better.   


It’s like a secret that only Dean knows. He knows the feline grace in Sam’s shoulders and hips when he’s long and lean like this. He knows the way Sam’s hip bones jut out over the hem of his underwear. And, if he’s being totally honest, he loves the way he can throw Sam around this way, the way being smaller seems to make Sam submissive.  


Dean’s been staring at Sam all night, watching Sam’s bare chest twist and bend around the motel room as he gets ready for bed, stripping down to his boxers and collapsing on the bed, lazily flipping through the television channels. Dean doesn’t remember the last time Sam was this thin. It’s not a hungry-skinny, not a skinny that Dean needs to worry about. Just a skinny that makes his dick fatten in his jeans as he walks over to the bed and takes the remote without a word.   


Sam grins when Dean pokes a finger into his belly button, then drags it down to cup Sam’s cock through his underwear.  


Ten minutes later, Sam’s riding him, turned backwards and rolling his ass up and down on Dean’s cock like a porn star.   


“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean moans, fingers running up his sides and bumping over each rib. “You look so fuckin’ good.”  


“So full, Dean,” Sam grits out, clenching around Dean’s cock as he sits all the way down, makes sure that Dean’s balls are smashed tight against him. “Fill me up so good.”  


“Yeah?” Dean asks, leaning up to bite at Sam’s shoulder blades. “You like that? Like that I’m the only one who can get deep enough to really scratch the itch?”  


Sam slams down on Dean again, the meat of his ass jiggling a little with the force of it, making Dean reach out and grab a handful. “Want you to fill me up all the time,” Sam groans, words coming fast the way they always do when he’s lost like this. “Want you in my ass every second of the day.”  


Dean falls back to the bed, lets Sam keep riding him, loving the dirty grind of his hips as he cries out with the pleasure of it. Sam sits up straight, stops moving just to feel Dean buried inside of him, hands running through his hair, then down his chest to his stomach. Dean shifts, pushes up just a little as he watches the graceful curve of Sam’s back.   


“Oh, God, Dean...I can...I can feel you...oh, God…”  


Sam reaches back and grabs Dean’s hand, pulls him up until he’s half-sitting, just enough to be able to reach Sam’s stomach. Sam guides his hand down to just below his belly button, sets it right over the bump of Dean’s cock.  


“Holy shit,” Dean breathes.  


It’s such an intimate thing, such a fucking delicious, dirty thing that his cock jerks with it.  


And Dean can feel that through Sam’s belly, too.   


“Jesus Christ, Sammy...that’s...that’s so good…”  


“Can you...fuck...can you sit up?”  


Sam pulls off, and Dean gets up on his knees at the edge of the bed, right in front of the huge mirror on the wall. Sam groans and gets back in front of him, sweaty back to Dean’s sweaty chest so that Dean can slide right back in where he belongs.   


Only this time, they can _see_ it.   


Dean moves slowly, mesmerized, fingers tracing around the edge of the head of his cock poking Sam’s stomach out, staring at the bump as it pushes and strains with each thrust.   


“Look at that, Sammy,” Dean breathes. “Fuckin’ look at that. Jesus.”  


Neither of them is particularly poetic tonight. Their dirty talk is usually good, great even. But as they both watch Sam’s body getting fucked, neither of them has much to say. They grunt and growl, Sam even whimpers a few times, both hypnotized, unable to look away, to stop touching and watching and memorizing exactly what this feels like.   


Dean grabs Sam’s cock, starts stroking with the same rhythm of his own hips, but they don’t speed up, don’t move to a position that will make it easier for them to come.   


Who knows, they might not come tonight at all.  


Because that would mean looking away. That would mean stopping what they’re doing, pulling out of Sam eventually, letting his stomach flatten back out to normal.   


Without a word, they make the decision to just stay right where they are for as long as possible, Dean’s hand over the bulge of himself inside Sam.   



	4. Pretty Little Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam wants his big brother. Panties might do the trick.

Sam sees them one day while Dean’s flirting with the girl at the checkout counter. He wanders over to that section of the store, knowing that Dean will be a few minutes and not wanting to stand there like the awkward teenager he is. 

Instead, he tries to inconspicuously check out a pair of black lace panties with pink little bows all around the hem, and wonders if they would be enough to make his big brother stop looking at anyone else for the night. Dean’s nineteen now, and unbearably gorgeous. Sam can hardly be in the same room with him now without getting hard. Dean’s voice, his full lips, the way he smells...any little thing will set Sam off, and it’s becoming a problem. 

But these, well, these look sexy. A little cheap, maybe, but it fits. They're soft and remind him of bleach blonde, pink-lipped girls in music videos. He knows he isn't as pretty as Dean was when he was this age, but maybe these would get him a little closer.

Quickly, glancing around to make sure no one’s watching, he stuffs the panties into the pocket of his sweatshirt and heads toward the door, looking very much like the annoyed little brother he is when he glares at Dean as he passes, silently telling him to hurry the hell up. 

“What’s the rush, Sammy?” Dean asks, following him out to the car. 

Sam only shrugs. “Didn’t feel like hanging around to watch the two of you fuck right there on the counter.”

Dean raises his eyebrows at Sam’s tone but doesn’t lose his cool. “Awww, don’t be jealous. You’ll get there someday.”

Sam grips the panties in his sweatshirt and stays silent until they’re back to the little shithole of an apartment Dad has dumped them in this time. 

Later that night, when Dean’s had too much to drink and is in an adorably good, loose mood, Sam stands up and stretches. Stretches his arms high enough that his shirt rides up to expose the flat of his stomach and the top of his jeans. High enough that sweet pink bows on black lace pop out. And Sam's instinct had been right. When he'd put them on in the bathroom earlier, they definitely looked good. Sleazy in the way that Dean liked, stretching tight over his perky little ass like they were made just for him.

“Dude,” Dean says lazily. “What’re you...what is that?”

Sam says nothing, just pulls his shirt up and looks down, blinks heavily in a way he knows makes him prettier than he is. “What’s what?”

Dean gets a better look. “Are those...are those panties?” 

Sam pulls at a belt loop, exposing a little more and walking toward Dean with just the right amount of sway in his hips. “Maybe.” Dean’s not the first guy he’s seduced. He’s just the first that matters. 

Dean looks shocked, and Sam waits, biting his lip and watching as a ton of emotions flit across Dean’s face. Eventually, it settles on a flushed curiosity. 

Sam can work with that.

“I saw them today,” he says, slowly edging down the zipper. “Thought they looked soft.”

Dean swallows. “Are they?”

Just like that, everything in Sam settles down. He’s got him. He’s going to get what he’s so fucking desperate for. 

“You have no idea. Wanna see all of them?”

Dean swallows again, clears his throat. “Uh.”

“Or maybe you’d like to feel how soft they are?”

With trembling hands, Dean reaches out for Sam, his lanky, dirty-haired little brother, and Sam knows he won’t be thinking about Checkout Girl again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! XOXO


	5. Impatience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Semi-public sex, handjobs, dirty talk

There are times when Dean can’t get enough of Sam. 

Truthfully, those times are all the time. But he can usually control himself, wait until they’re alone before he attempts to satisfy that appetite.

And then there are times like tonight when he doesn’t give a fuck.

Sam’s just so... _Sam_ , standing there in front of a display of snacks, undoubtedly trying to figure out which is the healthiest option. His hair is messy and his eyes are tired, but his shoulders are still strong, fingers still long and graceful, and his jeans are hugging all the right spots as they hang low on his waist. 

These days, Dean can’t remember why he ever thought he needed anyone else. For any reason. 

He sneaks up behind Sam and wraps his arms around him, pushing his nose into all that hair and breathing deep, hand running over the button of Sam’s jeans.

“Dean, we’re in public.” But he doesn’t pull away.

“We’re in a gas station in the middle of nowhere at three in the morning. That’s not public,” Dean tells him, low and soft right in Sam’s ear. 

“The cashier-”

“Is so involved in whatever porn he’s watching on that tiny television that he ain’t gonna notice the real thing right in front of him. Besides. He can’t actually see us.” Dean lets his hand wander, reaching under the hem of Sam’s now-unbuttoned jeans to feel the hot skin there.

Sam barely leans back, but it’s enough for Dean to feel his whole body against his, enough for him to keep going. He slides his hand lower and lower until he can wrap it around Sam’s cock, unable to move like he really wants to with Sam’s jeans holding him back. 

Sam takes a shuddering breath, probably biting his lip as Dean starts to move as best he can, until Sam’s hard and leaking, until Dean can practically smell and taste him.

“Come on, baby boy,” Dean whispers, knowing the nickname isn’t playing fair and not caring. He just needs Sam to come, needs to feel it.

Sam grunts a little for that, finally relaxes and leans forward, bracing his hands on the shelves so he can move his hips, rolling them just enough to find a rhythm with Dean’s hand. Dean stays pushed against him, his own cock against Sam’s ass, too many layers of denim between them. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs, reaching to scrape his teeth over Sam’s earlobe. “Give it to me, Sammy. You love it, don’t you?”

Sam only tightens his grip on the shelves and pushes harder against Dean, a broken groan escaping through gritted teeth.

“Come on.” Dean strokes over Sam’s cock, so hard now he’s got to be close. Dean can almost feel the pulse of it, the blood pumping as Sam starts to shake. “Come for me, baby boy.”

And Sam does, right there in the tiny, oil-scented aisle of the Gas ‘N Sip, all over Dean’s fingers.

Dean turns Sam around afterward, lets Sam watch as he licks his fingers clean of Sam’s come, savoring it like it’s candy, then buttons him up.

“Get your snacks,” he says. “And then you’re sucking me off in the car.”

Sam nods instantly, leaning forward to kiss and bite at Dean’s lips for just a moment. “Two minutes,” he says.

Dean nods at the cashier on the way out, but the man doesn’t look up from his television.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: dark ficlet, whipping

“Harder.”

“You sure, little brother?”

“I said _harder._ ”

_Crack._

Sam’s body thrusts forward, skin welting up almost instantly. He sighs, deep and content. “Again.”

_Crack._

This time, his hard cock jerks, trapped between his stomach and the bed.

_Crack._

His ass is on fire now, and his hips push up to give Dean more of it.

_Crack._

He risks looking back over his shoulder. Dean’s eyes are blank and his jaw is set, like he’s not the only one who needs this. Dean’s not the only one who hides something dark and shameful.

They’ll work it out together.

_Crack._

A loud moan tumbles out of Sam’s lips, rolls down to the bed where it falls away with Sam’s dignity and pride, leaving only the purity of the whip behind.

_Crack._

And then Dean’s face is there, shoved right up between his ass cheeks to lick at his hole, to smack at the already flaming skin and tease more fire out of it until Sam’s got tears running down his face. 

“ _Dean_ ,” he gasps.

But Dean doesn’t stop. Not unless he tells him to. And Sam will never tell Dean to stop. 

Sam’s hole opens up for Dean, relaxes and lets Dean tongue drive in deep. 

And just like that, he’s coming all over himself, shouting into the mattress, pushing back into Dean’s mouth.

Afterward, ass still burning and stomach sticky, he breathes through a kiss and speaks right into Dean’s mouth. 

“Thank you.”

Dean doesn’t smirk or wink or tease. He just nods. “Thank you.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean escape to the Impala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: weecest, blowjobs, risk of getting caught, drinking

There’s a whole world outside of the Impala tonight, a busy highway just a few feet in front of them, bright lights of a small city celebrating Saturday night just a few streets away. 

Dean doesn’t see any of it. His entire planet has narrowed down to the interior of John’s car, to the tickle of Sam’s messy hair on his skin. 

The headlights sliding by make Sam’s skin glow, and Dean’s glad for the steamed up windows, for the dark night that’s probably mostly hiding them, because no one else gets to see his baby brother like this. No one else gets to see the stretch and pull of those new muscles, of those sleek lines that seem to have popped up overnight.

“Dean,” Sam groans, in a voice lower than Dean’s heard it, a voice that suddenly sounds as rough and deep as his own. “Come on.”

Sam takes a long drink of whiskey from John’s bottle, and Dean knows they’ll catch hell for that tomorrow. It’s worth it for the way it makes Sam’s cheeks flush, the way it makes his eyes slide a little slower over Dean’s naked body. 

Dean spreads his legs the way Sam wants him to and watches as he folds himself down, half in the floorboard and half on the seat, his mouth seeking Dean’s cock. Dean can feel the whiskey burn on Sam’s breath as he sucks a little, swirling his tongue around the head of Dean’s dick. 

Sam sucks Dean off in record time, because he’s fucking good at it, because Dean can never last the way he wants to in Sam’s hot little mouth. But Dean can’t return the favor. Sam takes another drink of whiskey and grins, opening up the door of the Impala and disappearing into the night. 

Dean gets his clothes on and follows Sam back into the motel, where he knows Sam is waiting, in a bed only feet away from their sleeping father. Sam likes the torture of lying there, Dean pressed up against him, unable to fuck the way they want to. It’s a game Dean’s happy to play, because he likes to see how far Sam will let him go, how much teasing he can take. 

Even with John in the room, gentle snores echoing in Dean’s ear, they’re still in their own little world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! XOXO


End file.
